Boy's Night Out
by Seth Bramwell
Summary: When Butch and James encounter each other in a bar one night, the conversation will turn to the subject of their partners... and their relationships with them. Pls. R/R!


Disclaimer: All Pokemon characters are copyrighted by Nintendo. None of them are   
mine. I only wish they were. Exception: The character of chaplain Michael Gerber is   
my creation.   
  
Boy's Night Out   
  
By Allan North   
  
The mood in the Seatbelt Lounge was a relaxed one, as usual. At the piano, the   
lovely and talented Yoko Kanno sat, casually playing a soft jazzy composition as patrons   
mingled, talked, and drank. At the bar, one lovely, charming villain sat nursing a   
strawberry margarita with a single rosebud protruding from beneath the surface of the   
frozen drink.   
  
It was a quiet night, an actual night off, and it was to be savored. He and Jessie   
had been running around- well, actually, flying around- for days in their usual pursuit   
of Pikachu, and in their travels had managed to stumble- through completely dumb luck   
of course- across a trap that had been set for wild Pokemon. The trio had found a Jolteon   
stuck in the device, unable to free itself. With the utmost of caution (after all, this was   
another electric Pokemon they were dealing with), Jessie and James had swiped the trap   
and brought the creature in, pleasing Giovanni enough to earn a small bonus and an   
actual night off. Meowth had promptly crashed in their quarters, totally exhausted from   
their travels.   
  
His human companions, however, were bursting with excited energy. Jessie had   
immediately run off with most of the bonus to a sale at a clothing boutique. James, who   
had no desire to repeat a Jessie shopping spree like the ones he had endured during the   
last two Princess Festivals- had taken a share of the bonus and headed off into the night   
of Viridian City, finally finding a lounge that looked friendly and sophisticated enough   
to be a place where he could relax without being captured by a nosy Jenny or pounded by   
some violent drunk. To lower his profile, James had even changed from his trademark   
White uniform to a casual outfit of dark pants and a red silk shirt with a black coat, and   
now he was making the most of a quiet, relaxing evening free of Pikachus, twerps,   
mallets, and Team Rocket in general.   
  
That was when James heard that all-too-familiar croak of the deep, scratchy voice   
of his rival. "Well, well, well, if it ain't the Rose Hugger!" Butch said with a nasty   
grin. "Guess we're not too wimpy to have a drink now and then, are we?"   
  
James scowled as he looked at Butch with annoyance. "What's it to you, frog   
breath?" he asked. "I was having a quiet drink, and I'd like it to stay quiet."   
  
Butch chuckled as he slid onto the bar stool next to James. "Don't get so damn   
touchy, you wuss. I'm just here to have fun, just like you." Butch motioned for the   
bartender. "Gimmie a beer." He said curtly.   
  
The bartender was quick to oblige. James shot a look at Butch but decided the   
whole thing wasn't worth it. "So, I heard you and Jessie actually caught something   
good." Butch said after downing a gulp of his beer.   
  
James looked at Butch with a smile of pride. "Yeah, we did. A Jolteon" He said   
proudly, sitting up straight on his stool.   
  
Butch smirked at him. "And what kind of dumb luck was that, sissy?"   
  
James' face fell. "What do you mean?"   
  
"Oh, come on. You and Jessie can't even catch a Pikachu properly, and you   
expect us to believe you two caught a Jolteon without killing yourselves? Really, what'd   
you do, buy it off some loser trainer?"   
  
James glared hard at Butch and sipped his margarita through the straw. "As I   
recall, you had your own hard time with that Pikachu." He muttered.   
  
"At least we had it for a while!" Butch snapped back. "Face it, freak, you're   
just a pathetic loser."   
  
James scowled at Butch. "I am not, and neither is Jessie!" he snapped. In a   
classic case of bad timing, James took a long draw on his straw and sucked in a   
mouthful of frozen margarita, giving him a painful icy headache. It was all James could   
to do grit his teeth and squeeze his eyes shut as Butch laughed at him. Slowly, the pain   
in his head subsided, and he looked at Butch. "We caught it fair and square, and if you   
don't believe it, I don't really give a damn."   
  
Butch rolled his eyes. "Whatever. As if I care." He said smugly. "So where's   
Jessie?"   
  
James looked at Butch. "Where's Cassidy?"   
  
"What do you care?" Butch replied.   
  
"What do you care where Jessie is?" James replied evenly.   
  
Butch smiled. "Cassidy's out somewhere. I dunno where and I don't much care."   
  
James' face took on a bemused look. "Jessie's out shopping."   
  
The two sat in an awkward silence for a moment. It was Butch who spoke next.   
"How do you do it, man?"   
  
James swallowed his drink. "Do what?" he asked.   
  
"Work with that girl. She seems so…" James shot Butch a warning glance.   
"…grouchy." Butch finished, censoring his original choice of words.   
  
James was silent for a moment. "She can be." He said at last. "But I'd bet   
  
Cassidy can be just the same way." Butch looked at his beer in silence. "Am I right?"   
James asked.   
  
Butch looked at James with a look James had never seen on him before… it was   
the look of a comrade who dealt with similar issues all the time. "Yep, she sure can."   
He said. "But you know… I mean… well, things make up for it sometimes."   
  
James looked at Butch curiously as a few disgusting images ran through his mind.   
"You don't mean… you and her… uh…"   
  
Butch glared at James angrily. "Screw you. Get your mind out of her skirt."   
  
"I only meant…" James began.   
  
"I know what you meant, Rose boy. Maybe you oughta look at how your own   
partner presents herself before even thinking that about Cassidy!" Butch angrily gulped   
down the last of his beer before slamming the glass down hard on the bar. "Hit me   
again." He said to the bartender, and the glass was refilled in less than a minute.   
  
James looked at Butch humbly. "Sorry." He said quietly.   
  
Butch blew a deep breath out and reached into his pocket for a pack of cigarettes.   
He lit one and took a hit, then turned to look at James. "Forget about it. You know,   
maybe we're in the same boat."   
  
James glanced at Butch. "How so?"   
  
"Beautiful partners who have tempers like a volcano." Butch replied.   
  
Again, a moment of uncertain silence. This time, it was James who broke it.   
  
"Are you happy?" he asked suddenly.   
  
"Are you?" Butch replied.   
  
"Well…" James began, then fell silent.   
  
"Yeah, me too." Butch said. Then, a thought hit him… "Hey, what about you   
two as…" he began.   
  
"What?"   
  
"Ah, hell… you know… as a couple." Butch finished.   
  
James smirked. "I think I could ask you the same question, Botch."   
  
Butch gave James an angry glance. "Drop it, blue boy. You're in dangerous   
waters."   
  
James had to chuckle at this. "What, in danger from you? The infamous silent   
partner?"   
  
Butch scowled at James. "Still waters run deep, you cross-dressing geek." He   
growled.   
  
"I can swim just as well as you, Froggy." James retorted, half amused and half   
intimidated by the exchange.   
  
Butch smirked at him. "So why don'tcha answer the question…. Chicken?"   
  
James closed his eyes and straightened in his seat as he took a sip of his drink.   
"Maybe a true gentleman doesn't say." He said with dignity.   
  
Butch scoffed. "Yeah, and maybe you're just gay."   
  
Had James been anyone else, that statement probably would have offended him.   
Instead, it only amused him. "You just don't get it, do ya, Butch? Oh, well, how   
much heart can one expect from a fly-eating weirdo like you?"   
  
Butch took another drink, and again slammed his glass down angrily. "I have   
heart! Just 'cause I don't go around flaming it out like you do…"   
  
James faced Butch with an accusing look on his face and tone in his voice now.   
"Really? And who have you ever really cared about besides yourself?!" he asked,   
angered by the claim that Butch, so cold and silent, could possibly have emotions that   
compared to his own in terms of intensity.   
  
Butch stared at James angrily. "Ca-" He started to say, then stopped himself   
abruptly.   
  
James grinned, his anger gone. "Yesssss?" he asked.   
  
Butch sweat dropped. "Carmine. Bobby Carmine. Old friend I knew at   
Pokemon Tech." He replied.   
  
James didn't believe it for a second. "Sure." He said sarcastically.   
  
Butch's eyes went wide as his face displayed extreme stress for a second, but   
only a second. "I swear!" he said in a tone far too frantic for his usual manner.   
  
James said not a word as he grinned wryly at his Teammate.   
  
Butch chewed his lip for a second. He could not- he would not be found out.   
Suddenly, he turned the tables around. "Look, you're one to talk, the way you fawn over   
that witch Jessie!"   
  
Again, James grinned at Butch, knowing he couldn't possibly deny the charge.   
  
"Like you with Cassidy?" James asked slyly.   
  
Butch's eyes narrowed. "When have I ever fawned over Cassidy?" he demanded.   
  
James folded his arms across his chest. "Well, you certainly didn't seem too   
happy when I grabbed her that time you took over our Pokemon."   
  
Butch's lips tightened. "I wasn't" he growled.   
  
"And why do you suppose that is?" James asked triumphantly.   
  
Butch looked at James smugly. "I was afraid your stupidity might be   
contagious!" he snapped.   
  
James rolled his eyes and reached for the last drink of his margarita. "Oh,   
whatever. I give up."   
  
The corner of Butch's mouth curled upward, and he was on the brink of replying   
to James when his train of thought was suddenly interrupted by an electronic musical   
tune from his belt. He reached to the source of the sound, and removed the small black   
pager. Butch looked at the digital display. "Ah, hell."   
  
James set his empty glass back down on the bar. "What?"   
  
"I gotta go. It's Cassidy."   
  
James broke into a wide, mocking smile as he imitated the sound of a whip   
cracking.   
  
Butch snarled at him and uttered just one word: "Jessebelle."   
  
James' smile vanished as he drew back. "How do you know about that?" he   
asked in a quiet, trembling voice.   
  
"I have my ways." Butch replied. With that, he opened his black leather wallet   
to pay for his drinks. As he reached in and pulled out a bill, a piece of white, folded-up   
paper fell out and fluttered down, landing on Butch's barstool. Neither Butch nor James   
noticed it.   
  
James' smile restored itself as he got over his sudden shock and watched Butch   
shove his wallet back into his pocket. "Mustn't keep her waiting, eh, Butchy?" he said   
with a giggle worthy of his infamous schoolgirl disguise.   
  
Butch smirked at him again, never letting his hardened image fade. "Whatever,   
small fry. See ya." Butch turned and stomped out the door.   
  
James turned back to the bartender and pulled out some money to pay for his own   
drink. He passed the bill to the man and happened to look down as he waited for his   
change. It was then that James noticed the piece of paper that had landed on Butch's   
barstool.   
  
James looked at the paper with curiosity. "What's this?" he asked himself as he   
reached for the paper and unfolded it, figuring Butch had dropped it at some point.   
James became dazed as he stared at the paper, so much so that he didn't even realize his   
change had been set down in front of him with a receipt.   
  
The top of the paper read in fancy calligraphy, "Cupid's Wedding Chapel, Neon   
Town" Below that, in smaller lettering, the paper read, "Be it known that on this day,   
Butch Crandall and Cassidy Parker were joined together in the union of Holy Matrimony   
by Chaplain Michael Gerber. What God has joined, let no man put asunder."   
  
James smiled, not a smug or triumphant smile this time, but one of quiet   
happiness and respect. "Whatever indeed, Butch." He whispered. With that, James   
swept up his change and pocketed the piece of paper, and turned to walk out as the piano   
player finished her soft piece with a flourish on the high note keys.   
  
Outside, Butch was a block away from the bar, walking with a cigarette in his   
mouth and his hands in his pockets. What a stupid boob, Butch thought to himself with   
pleasure. He doesn't suspect a thing… nobody suspects a thing. Butch walked on to   
Headquarters, eager to get back to his wife and partner, as his cigarette smoke wafted up   
to the stars in the night sky.   
  
THE END


End file.
